


Insecure Boredom

by 2001DoubleD33



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Angst, Fluff, Greg worries, Implied Relationship, M/M, Mycroft leaves in the morning, Promises, cuteness, sweet nothings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2001DoubleD33/pseuds/2001DoubleD33
Summary: Greg begins to worry that he's invested too much in the relationship, and Mycroft is slipping away. He decides to confront him, but fails quite fantastically.





	Insecure Boredom

Greg watched Mycroft’s fleeting form go around the corner of the walk-in closet. He normally woke up after Mycroft left, and the politician wouldn’t return until late that night. Now, however, he had the rare chance of watching Mycroft get dress for work. 

 

He was quiet and quick about everything, which Greg supposed he should have expected. He was doing up his tie when he returned to the main portion of his bedroom. His shirt was untucked from  his black dress trousers, making him seem more unwound than he usually would. The moment was gone as he began tucking in his shirt, wandering back to the closet to get his suit jacket. The next time he returned he was fully dressed in his suit, and Greg remembered that he now had to leave soon.

 

“Enjoying the show, Gregory?” Mycroft hummed, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

Greg had the decency to blush, rolling his eyes,”Do you  _ have  _ to go today?” 

 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow,”Yes, Gregory. I have to leave today.”

 

Gregory sighed and dropped his head back on the pillow, rolling onto his side. He presented Mycroft with his back as he shut his eyes, hoping he could drift back to sleep and get through the day faster. The elder Holmes’ intake of breath was one of patience, his footsteps careful as he made his way to the bedside.

 

“Gregory, I will still be home tonight for dinner.” He assured him, voice softer but still slightly exasperated.

 

“Your idea of dinner is tea and a biscuit on a good night.” Greg mumbled,”At around ten at night.”

 

Mycroft was quiet behind him for a while before he leaned down to press a soft his to his temple.

 

“I will be home later. Get some sleep.” 

 

And then his footsteps receded, the door clicked, and he was gone. Greg blew out an irritated breath against the fabric of the pillow. 

 

Even so, ten minutes later he was up for good, dressing in a pair of clothes he’d brought over the night before. They hadn’t quite moved in yet, mostly because Greg insisted they be together a bit longer before they could. He stayed over at Mycroft’s house whenever the politician would have time for him. It worked, so there was no reason to change it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, he always said.

 

But even as Greg pulled on his trousers and sat on the bed to relax a moment, he wondered- was it broken after all? Really, in a week, a good week, he saw Mycroft less than fifteen hours. Was that really even a relationship? 

 

The inspector frowned up at the bland ceiling. What were they really? Boyfriends? Friends with benefits? Shagging buddies? It now occurred to him that, not once, had Mycroft held his hand in public. Nor kissed him, smiled at him, even  _ looked _ at him for any reason other than business in public. Why? Why the bloody hell not?

 

Mycroft was very obviously not shy about his sexuality, nor his sexual life excluding details. And he was so sweet once they slipped passed the threshold of either of their homes. 

 

Greg shook his head and stood once more with a grunt of annoyance. Why was he dwelling over these things? Mycroft  _ chose _ him, loved him, right? Of course he did.

 

The inspector watched himself as he buttons up his shirt in the mirror, eyes staring into the ones reflected blankly. He tried to ignore it, really he did.

 

Mycroft hadn’t actually told him he loved him. Even after the countless times Greg had told him, Mycroft hasn’t responded with more than a faint smile. 

Greg never realized how badly he wanted,  _ needed _ to hear those words until the moment he realized he hadn’t heard them before.

 

The rest of the day he was clumsy and on edge. Sherlock even came to help with a case, which was the one thing the inspector didn’t need. The Holmes boy was insistent as usual, as well as rude and nosy. 

 

“You’re distracted,” Sherlock declared after he spilled his coffee with his elbow.

 

“Yeah, a bit.” Greg sighed.

 

“Upset. Mycroft will not be joining you for lunch- you’ve worn something comfortable rather than presentable.” He deduced, eyes narrowed.

 

“Sorry, felt like being a slob today.” Greg quipped irritably. 

 

Sherlock opened his mouth to continue, but all that escaped was a startled yip as he lurched forward, turning to stare at John sitting down behind him. 

 

“You’d best head out, Sherlock. Molly said she had some extra parts lying around for you.” said the doctor calmly, pulling back the hand that had very obviously just pinched Sherlock’s arse. 

 

The detective blushed and scowled as John winked at him, making him turn and stalk out.

 

“I never wanted to see that.” Greg huffed, dropping back down into his chair.

 

“Oh well. So, what’s wrong with you today? You’re out of it, Lestrade.” The doctor’s voice became softer, concern wrinkling his brow.

 

Greg sighed, rubbing a hand down his face,”I just...it’s Mycroft.” 

 

“Oh. Did you two have a row?” John asked, and Lestrade relished in the feeling of not being deduced.

 

Even so, he shook his head,”No, no, he’s just...god, I sound like a bloody teenage girl.” He chuckled humorlessly.

 

John smiled softly,”What’s wrong then?”

 

Lestrade was quiet for a moment before he answered,”Has Sherlock said he loves you yet?”

 

John’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly,”Yeah, of course. Why?”

 

“Mycroft hasn’t.” He said blatantly,”And, to be honest, we haven’t done anything casual. Dinner is professional, lunches even more so. He’s always got this stiff upper lip and I think he’s getting bored of me.” 

 

John frowned,”Really? You two have been dating for three months,”

 

“But are we really even dating?” His reply was tight, almost desperate.

 

John seemed to run over his words a few times in his head before he spoke,”Talk to him. Tell him what’s wrong, Greg. If nothing else, the Holmes boys are obvious about everything, so be the same way.”

 

With that he stood,”I’m gonna go roundup Sherlock and we’ll get out of your hair for the day. Try to talk to him, yeah?”

 

Greg sighed in resignation,”Try, yeah.”

 

John gave him a sympathetic smile before he left him alone. Greg spend the last hour trying to plan out what to say. 

 

By the time he returned back to Mycroft’s house, he still hadn’t the slightest clue what to say. As he pulled out the spare key, he began to worry- what if Mycroft thought it tedious to be having any such conversation? Maybe he’d see Greg as something normal again?

 

He took a shaky breath and pushed open the door to the house.

 

“Honey, I’m home.” He called jokingly, pathetically.

 

“I see.” Came Mycroft’s voice, startling Greg as he came into view walking from the living room.

 

“Oh! I didn’t...think you’d be home yet.” Lestrade stammered, shrugging off his coat.

 

“I said I’d be home in time for dinner. Anthea took the liberty of making it for us.” He smiled.

 

Still bewildered, Greg allowed Mycroft to lead him to the kitchen. They ate in the comfortable quiet, but Greg still had to force himself to sit still. Now was his best chance to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words to start off with. After ten minutes of silence, he decided to just get it over with.

 

But, even as he shifted to turn to Mycroft a bit more, his elbow once again knocked against his glass, sending it crashing to the floor. Mycroft’s gaze snapped up to meet Greg’s, who was stuck to his seat in fear, shock, mortification.

 

“Gregory?” Mycroft’s calm, careful voice pulled him back to reality moments later.

 

Mycroft was closer now, searching eyes turned on him, soothing hands on his shoulders. Greg let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

 

“What’s wrong?” Again, his voice was quiet.

 

Greg felt something twist in his stomach and something snap in his head. This was it, he couldn’t patch up the dam any longer

“You’re bored. Tired, irritated. I can’t possibly hold your interest, Mycroft. You’re bloody brilliant so why do you keep stringing me along? What use could I be?” His voice was strained, panicked, words running together.

 

But, being Mycroft, the other understood every word,”What? Gregory, I have to leave for work, you know that as well as I do.” 

 

“No! No, you never...never said it. Never kissed me in public, never held my hand. I’m normal,  _ average _ , Mycroft, how could you actually take interest in me?”

 

“Said what, Gregory?” Mycroft knew the answer already, but Greg still forced out the words.

 

“I love you. You… you never-” He choked.

 

Mycroft silenced him by pressing a kiss to Greg’s lips- soft and passionate. Greg melted, bringing up his hands to Mycroft’s chest, leaning in and kissing back.

 

“I love you.” The words were spoken against the inspector’s lips, whispered like a secret,”I love you, Gregory, more than you can imagine. And even morning when you choose tea over coffee take me by surprise.” His words were slow, deliberate as he pressed another kiss to his lips before moving back an inch to look him in the eye.

 

“Every move you make in another step forward, another twist in my life, another reason to love you. You make my life worth living, Gregory, you should know that.”

 

“You mad bastard.” The words were murmured with a fond smile as Greg leaned forward to steal another kiss, his worries and fears long forgotten.

 

Mycroft Holmes was a strange man, but he was a man that loved Greg, and that would never change.


End file.
